Chapter 1

The day I finally secured an investment worth over 20 million dollars, I walked into the office and immediately caught sight of that calculating assistant wearing a smug look as she spread gossip around.

According to her, my husband, the CEO, was planning to strip me of my position and exile me to some forgotten branch in Northreach.

Contract in hand, I headed straight for the CEO's office. I stood behind my husband and rubbed his temples while joking casually, "You won't believe what I just heard. Apparently, you're sending me off to a branch office. If only they knew we've been married in secret for seven years and are about to make it public."

He didn't look surprised at all. He gently pushed my hand away and smiled.

"It's not a rumor. Andrea messed up the last project, and the board is breathing down my neck. They want someone sent to Northreach, and they picked her. That place is brutal. She wouldn't survive it. She's not like you. She doesn't have the luxury of failure. If she goes there, her career is finished. She was my junior back in school. I can't let her life fall apart."

He paused, then added softly, "Once you come back, I'll announce our marriage. And I'll make sure you get what you've always wanted. A child."

I smiled, but it held no warmth. I turned around and walked out without another word. Before I reached the elevator, I made a call to his biggest competitor.

"Looking for a vice president? I'm bringing 20 million dollars of funding with me. I only ask for one thing: Don't send me to Northreach."

Chapter 1

There was a short silence on the line, followed by a small chuckle and a sigh.

"Are you serious? I'd give you the world. How could I ever let you suffer through wind and sand out there?"

I was long past being impressed by this kind of polished flattery. I cut straight to business.

"So when can I start?"

"Anytime. Who's trying to banish you to Northreach? Quinton would never sign off on it. Didn't he just talk about going public with you after you helped Andrea clean up her disaster a few days ago?"

I sidestepped the question and replied evenly, "Just be ready to take over the 20-million-dollar investment."

After ending the call, I logged into the company system and submitted my resignation.

Then I returned to my office, grabbed a cardboard box, and began packing my things.

I hadn't shut the door. Colleagues kept sneaking glances from their desks, curiosity written all over their faces. A few bold ones even came over, eager to gossip.

"Ms. Woolery, I heard Northreach is hell on earth. A colleague came back from there once looking half-dead and skinny as a rail, and her skin was so rough it could scrape paint. You've been with Mr. Kemp for seven years. Can't you at least ask him to go easy on you?"

"She obviously rubbed Ms. Roffe the wrong way. After all, Ms. Roffe is Mr. Kemp's favorite. Take notes, everyone. That's what happens when you offend the wrong person."

Quinton Kemp never bothered hiding his bias toward Andrea Roffe. That was exactly why so many people were so quick to side with her and trample over me.

I was just about to explain that I was resigning, not being exiled, when Andrea emerged from the CEO's office, looking smug and triumphant.

She deliberately straightened her posture, flashing a freshly pinned vice president badge, and spoke with fake generosity.

"Lisa, you don't have to take anything from this office. I don't mind at all. When you come back, I'll make sure everything's still here for you."

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The looks people gave her turned syrupy and eager.

"No wonder Mr. Kemp demoted Lisa before sending her to Northreach. He was clearly keeping the vice president spot open for Ms. Roffe."

"I'm officially rooting for them. This is true love! They're the real power couple!"

Back then, Quinton used to say workplace romance was unprofessional. Hence, we stayed secretly married for seven years. He also shut down even the slightest rumor about us.

Once, he caught a cold, and I handed him a cup of hot water.

Someone said something snarky about it. Because of that, he exploded and slashed everyone's performance bonus in half that month, causing me to be completely isolated overnight.

Now, he let rumors about him and Andrea spread freely. He even claimed that office romance boosted morale among younger employees.

And I had actually believed that nonsense. What a joke.

Andrea cleared her throat, putting on a modest expression.

"Don't say things like that. Quinton only gave me the vice president title to help settle my nerves. I'm not like Lisa. She worked really hard for six years before earning that position. That's how it's supposed to be done."

Chapter 2

The next moment, Andrea deliberately unclipped her badge and held it to me.

"Lisa, I've always felt like this position doesn't really belong to me. The vice president role suits you far better."

I knew she was just putting on a show, looking for a chance to humiliate me.

I wasn't about to play along. I reached out and took the badge.

"You're too nice. Thanks."

Andrea stiffened, her fingers tightening around one corner. I gave it a couple of tugs, but she wouldn't let go.

We were locked in that awkward struggle when her ear flicked. Hearing footsteps approaching, she released it instantly.

In the same breath, she snatched the glass of water off the desk, dumped it over her own head, and collapsed to the floor. Tears welled up as she looked at me helplessly.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Woolery. If you want the vice president position, I'll give it back. Why did you splash water on me?"

The acting was painfully obvious. And yet, Quinton fell for it every single time.

He didn't ask a single question. He shoved me aside and rushed to help Andrea up.

"Lisa, have you lost your mind? Andrea is an exceptional talent! What's wrong with making her vice president? And you picked on her in front of everyone? What will outsiders think of us? Apologize to her, now!"

My lower back slammed into the corner of the desk. The sharp pain drained the color from my face.

Exceptional talent, huh?

A year ago, Quinton had returned to his alma mater as a guest speaker.

Andrea had shamelessly texted him on social media afterward, claiming she had audited a few classes and counted as his junior.

He called her driven. He said that her family was poor, that she couldn't afford proper schooling, and that it wouldn't be fair to judge her education.

What he conveniently forgot was that I had also come from nothing. I clawed my way out of the mountains through studying, and only met him in college.

Before I could say a word, the room erupted. Voices piled on top of each other, all insisting I had been targeting Andrea.

Andrea sniffed quietly, her voice weak and trembling.

"Quinton, I know Lisa is upset because she doesn't want to go to Northreach. As long as she's willing to go there and help the company grow, I don't mind being picked on a little…"

Quinton sighed heavily.

"You're too soft-hearted. Lisa is only jealous of how young and capable you are."

He turned to me, his gaze icy.

"Apologize to Andrea, and make sure you mean it. Then I'll allow you to come back within a year. Otherwise, you can spend the rest of your life eating sand in Northreach."

He had forgotten how he used to cradle my face when we studied management together, praising me for being sharp and capable.

He had forgotten how I had given up my own promotion and handed him the CEO seat, how he cried as he promised to treat me well.

He always said the company needed fresh blood. So he took my accomplishments and handed them to Andrea, calling it an investment in loyalty.

Back then, I kept lying to myself, telling myself he was just ambitious.

Only now did I finally see the favoritism for what it was.

I smiled faintly, tore off my employee badge, and said calmly, "You're right. I pick on the weak, fear the powerful, and lack professional integrity. I'm clearly unfit to stay here. Whoever wants to go eat sand in Northreach's desert is welcome to do so."

With that, I picked up my cardboard box and walked out.

Behind me, Quinton snapped back to himself and barked, "Stop! I need to check what confidential materials you're taking!"

I was about to explain when he reached out, grabbed the entire box from my arms, and dumped its contents straight into the shredder.

"Everything here belongs to the company. You have no right to take anything with you. If you're leaving, then leave empty-handed."

He wanted to force me to lower my head.

What he forgot was that I had never been his subordinate.

And so, I had no intention of telling him that what he had just destroyed was the investment proposal that could have saved the company.

Back then, Andrea had miscalculated the units in a contract, costing the company more than 20 million dollars. Even after I convinced the other party to cut the penalty in half, the company's cash flow still collapsed into crisis.

Chapter 3

After endless negotiations, I finally locked down an investment of more than 20 million dollars, just enough to drag the company back from the edge.

Quinton had no idea that, minutes earlier, he had tossed away the company's last lifeline, along with his own future.

Once I left the office, I called the investor and kept my tone as courteous as possible.

"I'm sorry about the inconvenience, Mr. Snyder. There's an issue with the company seal, so the contract needs to be voided for now. When would you be available to re-sign?"

Scott Snyder was a titan in the industry, someone who rarely showed his face in public. If I hadn't once saved his life during a heart attack, our paths probably never would've crossed.

To my surprise, the old man sounded genuinely puzzled.

"I thought you were being transferred to Northreach. I saw your company's announcement. It said all of your accounts are being handed over to a young woman, Ms. Roffe or something."

I went still.

In that instant, I knew Quinton had gone behind my back.

I steadied myself and forced a light laugh. "That must be an internal mix-up. I'm staying put and continuing to handle your account. Even if I ever did take a trip to Northreach to relax, I'd let you know well in advance."

Scott chuckled. "Alright, then. I'm free tomorrow."

After ending the call, I swallowed my anger and unlocked my phone, only to be hit by a flood of messages.

Clients were asking why I was being sent to Northreach and when I planned to return.

When I opened the screenshots they sent, it became clear that Quinton had posted on social media, announcing my transfer and instructing everyone to contact the newly appointed vice president, Andrea.

I hadn't seen the post at all. He had clearly hidden it from me.

Without hesitating, I made my own post.

I attached a screenshot of Quinton's announcement with a massive "FAKE" stamped across it.

The caption read, [I'm still here. Please don't be misled. For business matters, feel free to contact me directly!]

I was replying to clients one by one, my fingers shaking with exhaustion, when Quinton's call came through. His voice was clipped and irritated.

"Lisa, take that post down immediately. Do you have any idea how many people are calling Andrea a fraud and unfollowing her? She's crying right now.

"You're leaving anyway, so what's the point of clinging to these clients? She came from nothing and didn't have it easy. If you had even a shred of decency, you wouldn't do this to her. Delete the post now, or I'll officially terminate you. Don't come crying to me then."

The way he shielded Andrea almost made me laugh.

"Andrea's had a hard road. So have I. Who hasn't? I built these relationships by grinding day and night, entertaining clients, doing their laundry, cooking meals, driving their kids around, and even helping them sort out family messes. And now you expect me to just hand everything over to Andrea? Not a chance."

Quinton stalled, unable to refute it. He finally replied in a cold, official tone, "If you refuse to comply with company restructuring, then we do not need an employee with zero team spirit."

He was trying to strong-arm me again.

This time, I answered calmly, "Perfect. Go ahead and fire me."

I ended the call, stopped by a nearby print shop to print the divorce papers, and headed home.

What I didn't expect was the sharp, spicy scent that hit me the moment I reached the door, like chili peppers burning in the air.

I pushed the door open.

At a glance, I saw Andrea in the kitchen, slipping off Quinton's apron while playfully poking his side.

Quinton stood there holding a spatula, laughing like he hadn't a care in the world.

Hearing the sound, they both turned.

Quinton immediately pushed Andrea aside and hurried over to me.

For once, he took off my coat and hung it for me.

"Why are you home so late?"

Chapter 4

I shoved Quinton away and said dryly, "Wow. Guess I came home at a bad time."

Andrea smiled right on cue.

"No, you're not interrupting anything. I just stopped by to help Quinton out. Please don't get the wrong idea."

In the entire company, Andrea was the only person who knew that Quinton and I were married.

He shared everything with her without hesitation. And yet, this was the first time I had learned he even knew how to cook.

For seven years, the kitchen had always been my domain.

He knew perfectly well that after I damaged my stomach from endless business dinners, even the smell of hot oil made me nauseous. Still, he would act sweet and say he loved my cooking, and I would go along with it, making three meals a day.

It never once crossed my mind that he could cook at all, let alone cook this well.

Andrea, fully aware of my stomach condition, spoke with exaggerated concern, "These peppers are from my hometown. They're really spicy. Why aren't you sitting down to eat? Are you avoiding it because you don't like me?"

I didn't move or even look at her. My eyes stayed on Quinton.

"Stop beating around the bush. Just say what you want," I said.

Quinton finished washing his hands, reached into his pocket, and placed a train ticket into my palm.

"About the post earlier, that was on me. I shouldn't have reassigned your clients to Andrea without asking. She said she wants to build things on her own."

He paused, then continued, "Tonight's dinner is a send-off. I booked you a ticket for tomorrow night. Once you're back, we'll go public. I'll make sure the whole country hears about it."

Before I could respond, Andrea lifted her glass toward me.

"Lisa, thank you for letting me use your room. I'll make sure the house is well taken care of."

Quinton quickly added, a hint of unease in his voice, "Andrea's apartment lease just ended. Your room was empty anyway, so it made sense for her to stay there temporarily."

I worked late so often, and Quinton claimed he found it hard to sleep when we shared a bed, so I volunteered to move into the guest room.

Over time, the guest room simply became my room.

I had been to Andrea's place before. It was a two-bedroom apartment, about 650 square feet.

Back then, Quinton and I had squeezed into a windowless basement. The space was so cramped that we could barely stretch out, yet we endured it together.

Love, it seemed, always came with a sense of owing something. To make room for her, he didn't want me staying even a moment longer.

The ticket showed that it was a 43-hour trip on a hard seat. He hadn't spared a single thought for whether I would survive the trip.

I tore it in half and looked at him coolly.

"Are you incapable of understanding plain English? I already resigned. I'm not going to Northreach."

Andrea acted as if she hadn't heard me. She turned, disappeared into the bedroom, and reemerged dragging a suitcase nearly as tall as her waist.

"Lisa, I've already packed your things. If you need anything once you're there, just tell me. I'll prepare it for you."

Quinton's expression softened. He draped an arm around my shoulders and said gently, "Come on. You know I'd never really let you suffer. Just stay in Northreach for a couple of days. I'll find an excuse to bring you back."

That was always his pattern. Hurt first and soothe later.

I used to give in for love. Now, I just felt exhausted.

I played along, took the suitcase, and unzipped it.

Inside lay a shredded down jacket, feathers spilling across the floor.

Exactly as I had expected.

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

"So this is what you packed for me?"

Quinton looked momentarily startled, but still rushed to her defense.

"She didn't mean it. It's already kind of her to help at all. You can teach her slowly. Why are you being so hard on her?"

I almost laughed out loud. Andrea was 29, just a year younger than me. Why did he make it sound like she was still a kid?

Andrea's eyes filled instantly. She bowed and apologized in a trembling voice.

"I'm really sorry. I did too much farm work growing up, so my hands are rough. I ruined your clothes. How much was it? I'll pay you back, okay?"

Chapter 5

Andrea had barely finished apologizing when she deliberately kicked over the trash can. It hit the floor with a loud crash.

I frowned, irritation rising, ready to lash out. Then I saw what had spilled across the floor, and my breath caught.

Inside were the matching shirts I had bought for Quinton and me, our mugs, and a thick photo album. There was also an old digital camera.

Every single item had been ruined on purpose. Some were sliced cleanly in half, while others were smashed beyond repair.

Andrea's eyes flickered with unmistakable satisfaction, but her expression quickly shifted to innocent concern.

"I didn't mean to break those," she said softly. "Quinton told me you were planning to throw them away anyway."

I turned to look at Quinton.

He nodded without hesitation, completely indifferent.

"They're just cheap junk. I told you ages ago to get rid of them. Andrea was helping you clean up. You should be thanking her."

Something clenched painfully in my chest, and a bitter smile crept onto my lips.

He had already forgotten what those things had meant to us.

After graduation, I had turned down offers from major international companies. At Quinton's desperate urging, I stayed and helped him build the company from nothing.

In a big city, people without connections drift like weeds without roots. Back then, all we had was each other.

On our first anniversary after starting the business, I wanted to encourage him. I sold plasma ten times just to afford that cheap digital camera.

I told him we should record everything. That one day, when we finally made it, we could look back and remember how far we had come.

That camera captured summers when we couldn't afford air conditioning, riding the subway all day just to enjoy the cool air, and pretending it was a date.

It recorded New Year's Eve, the two of us hunched over a phone watching a holiday program, sharing an instant mac and cheese while he quietly slipped half his hot dog into my bowl.

Every time he looked at those photos, he cried. He promised again and again that he would make it up to me someday.

But on the day the company went public, I pulled out the camera to take a picture of him cutting the ribbon, only to have him slap it out of my hands, saying it was embarrassing for a vice president to carry something so cheap.

And now, he had let Andrea destroy it.

Even the printed photo albums were treated like trash.

There was one thing he had said that was true.

What we had was already rotten. It really was time to get rid of it and let it go.

Seeing the pain in my eyes, Quinton finally seemed to recall something. He looked away.

"Don't argue with Andrea," he said. "I'll buy you better stuff later."

I shook my head, opened my briefcase, and took out the divorce papers.

"Sign this."

He frowned in irritation.

"We agreed, no business talk at home."

I replied calmly, "It's just a signature. It'll take less than a minute."

Maybe guilt finally got to him. He hesitated, then took the document.

The moment he saw that it was a divorce agreement, his body stiffened, and his fingers trembled.

Andrea leaned over to peek. When she realized what it was, the smile at the corner of her lips spread uncontrollably.

Quinton snapped back to himself and glared at me.

"You want a divorce because Andrea threw out your stuff? No one's perfect, Lisa. You're being unreasonable."

I answered evenly, "I'm not being unreasonable. You can give Andrea a proper status now. Let her do whatever she wants in the company."

Quinton laughed coldly, anger flashing in his eyes. Veins stood out on the back of his hand as he nearly ripped the papers apart.

"I knew it! Your mind is filthy. Andrea is just a junior from school. What's wrong with helping her out? If someone had helped us back then, would our lives have been so miserable?

"Let me make this clear. Don't try to threaten me with divorce. It won't work.

"I was going to go public with you after you came back. I've changed my mind. I'm so disappointed in you!"

Chapter 6

Andrea immediately jumped in, clearly eager to stir things up.

"Quinton, it's obvious that Lisa just doesn't want to go to Northreach. That's why she's picking fights. If that's the problem, then I'll go instead. Please stop fighting."

Quinton's expression darkened even further. He pulled Andrea close and started toward the door, his eyes locked on me.

"Lisa, if you keep going after Andrea, then I'll buy her a luxury condo over there and move with her myself. I'll personally take care of her."

Despite his words, his hand stayed on the doorknob.

He was waiting.

Waiting for me to panic, to get jealous like I used to, to stop him, cry, apologize, and give in to whatever unreasonable demand he threw at me.

I walked over. He clearly thought I was about to beg him to stay. The tension between his brows finally eased.

Instead, I reached past him, pulled the door fully open, and gestured calmly.

"Go right ahead."

The moment the words left my mouth, Quinton's grip on Andrea tightened. She let out a small gasp of pain.

He shot me a vicious look.

"Fine," he muttered, and he stormed out.

As soon as the door closed, my phone buzzed.

My resignation had been approved.

This time, Quinton seemed to have really lost his temper.

The next day, I arrived early at the café where I was meeting Scott to talk about investing in Quinton's rival company.

I was scanning the menu when someone tapped twice on the window beside me.

I looked up and froze.

It was Quinton and Andrea.

A second later, they walked in together.

Quinton wore an openly smug expression.

"Lisa, are you following me now?" he scoffed. "Come on, where did you hear I'd be meeting clients around here today?"

Andrea was dressed to the nines with heavy makeup, looking like someone who had just come into money overnight.

"Quinton opened a 40-thousand-dollar bottle of wine for me last night," she said sweetly. "I heard he never took you to places this fancy. I hope you're not upset."

After I worked myself into a stomach ulcer from nonstop business dinners, he really had stopped taking me out like that.

I only frowned and checked my watch. "Pure coincidence. I'm here for a meeting. Please don't bother me."

Right on cue, Scott walked in with long strides.

Seeing the two of them crowding me, he paused, surprised.

"And you are?"

Quinton's face lit up instantly. He hurried forward and grabbed Scott's hand.

"Mr. Snyder! What a surprise. If I'd known you liked this place, I would've bought you coffee every day."

Andrea shot me a sharp, jealous glance before turning on a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"So you're trying to fix things by hunting for investors?" she said lightly. "Quinton only approved your resignation in the heat of the moment. If you behave yourself, I can help talk him into forgiving you."

She made sure to emphasize her closeness to him.

Quinton nodded, clearly pleased.

Watching the two of them perform, Scott couldn't help asking, "Lisa, what's going on here?"

Quinton stepped forward, his tall frame blocking me completely.

"Mr. Snyder, Lisa isn't senior enough to handle this. She's just a regular employee. Besides, she's heading to Northreach tonight, so she won't have time for follow-ups. I'm Quinton Kemp, the CEO. This is our vice president, Andrea Roffe. We'll handle the talks."

Even now, he didn't miss a chance to dress Andrea up.

I was about to speak when a calm, amused male voice sounded from behind me.

"Well, Quinton, have you really fallen so far that you're trying to steal my vice president and my investor?"